


Sleeping Lilies

by Kerosene



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade - L.A. By Night
Genre: F/M, Sharing a Bed, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 22:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19160644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerosene/pseuds/Kerosene
Summary: After the Labyrinth, Eva stays over





	Sleeping Lilies

“Basic organisation, I’m sure you’ve grasped - mundane books in these three bookcases, fiction in that one, these are histories - vaguely by time period, this is the...kindred... section, and these are various forms of occult stuff - the usual stuff is kind of collected over here, but everything else is kind of mixed together and grouped by approximate theme. I’ve some interesting reprints of some Early Modern texts, and I’ve been trying to keep the more...potent.. books scattered.”

Gesturing around the library, pointing out sections and interesting books, Jasper was not rambling, but he probably was not-not rambling, as his words picked up speed and he could feel the anxious energy building in his voice. He’d been floating - at first literally, and then metaphorically - after she’d kissed him, after they’d reached the normal tunnels and touched down, he still wasn’t sure he was actually walking on solid ground. She had _kissed_ him. _She_ had kissed _him_.  
Showing her around the library was meant to give him time to get his mind in gear, not be quite so much a stuttering, awkward fool. Nice idea, shame about the execution. 

To give his flailing hands something to do, he picked out some of the more interesting books, starting with one he’d not been able to puzzle through very far.  
“You might find this one interesting - X gave it to me out of the blue, it’s a Malkavian text that documents the Mirror Walk ritual - not the ritual itself, but lots of theory. I’ve never been able to get terribly far into it, but perhaps I’m... Missing something. There’s also quite a lot of Malkavian philosophy in it too, which is much as you’d expect. This one is meant to be about the Mirror Path in general, but I don’t read Egyptian Arabic. Or Arabic in general.”

“Most of my books on ley lines are rather... fluffy, but there’s some that seem a bit more plugged in. This one talks about nodes and quintessence as wellsprings of magical essence, which seems to track with the what’s in the Labyrinth, but given the nature of the...strings, what you’ve just found out, it seems a bit....simplistic, but the one next to it may actually have a bit more meat to it than I originally thought. This one is meant to be very, very good, but it’s in a Chinese dialect, and google translate isn’t helping with even the most basic aspects.”

Eva had taken a comfortable seat on the couch, a smile on her beautiful face, shoes kicked off to one side and she’d casually picked up the book of Tennyson’s poety he’d been reacquainting himself with the night before. He wished he’d thought to put it back on the shelf - she was watching him...flail, frankly. Which was hardly fair - this library was his sanctum sanctorum, the core of his haven. He should be able to be comfortable, confident here. He thought he’d left this kind of embarrassing awkwardness behind with his pulse. 

“Jasper?” Eva held out her hand, and he moved closer, close enough for her to reach out and pull him toward her, pull herself up to standing and into the circle of his arms, wrapping her own around his neck and pulling him close. “Thank you for sharing all this with me. It means a great deal.” 

She’s so much shorter than him, that even standing on tiptoe, he still has to stoop when she pulls him into another kiss, deeper than before, full of promises and intent. She pushed forward, guided one hand to her waist, the other to her head, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, revelling in the sensation of her. If he were alive, his pulse would be racing, and he can almost feel a phantom echo in his bloodless excitement, the sheer joy he’d not felt in so many years electrified by her delicate touch. 

“It’s nearly dawn” she whispered as she drew back scant inches “I can make it back to The Observatory, but I’d like to stay. May I impose on your hospitality some more?” 

He could barely drag his eyes away from her lips, blinks to clear, looks away “It’s no imposition at all. I-I’m afraid I don’t have a suitable guest room, buuuut you can take my bed, of course, I’ve slept on the-“

“Jasper” his name, simply said, brings him back to her, cuts his rambling off at the root. “I’d like to stay with you”. 

“I- yes, ok, sure, yes”, he stumbled, moving in to kiss her again. She closed the gap, a teasing smile on her cold, breathless lips, and he melts into her, feeling giddy, time drifting, his focus narrowing to just the two of them, to just where she pressed against him and he likewise. Parting, she takes his hand again, and let him lead her, past the cages and trapdoor, further down the corridor and into a small room behind a heavy door more suited to a bank vault than a bedroom, bare but for a narrow twin bed and plain chest of drawers. 

“It’s....not much, but...” as he closed the door, he’s not sure whether to feel embarrassed at the barren, utilitarian nature or not - he’d never expected his unlife to involve beautiful women asking to be in his bedroom, he’d not decorated with that in mind, and perhaps that’s ok, but perhaps he could have allowed the bad influence of the coterie to encourage a little luxury?

“It doesn’t need to be. It feels safe, however” she said, carefully placing her her circlet of dried flowers, most of her jewellery and after a little thought, her warded gloves on top of the chest of drawers, not looking at him, but not-not looking at him either. 

“Thank you - I can’t claim any particularly useful wards, but the door locks only from the inside. It’s...reassuring.” Should he lock the door? He usually locks the door - with no ghouls or similar to stand guard over him while he slept, and the potential for either intrusions from the labyrinth or escaped...guests..., that door was his last line of defence. It’s not paranoia when they really are out to get you, after all. But locking her in with him had connotations he wasn’t happy with. On the third hand, not offering her the protections he excercised nightly also seemed very rude, and more than that, actively asking for trouble - one early awakening a week was far too many. He compromised by showing her the mechanism, both for locking and unlocking. She wouldn’t be dependant on him to open the way. 

That done, Jasper kicked his boots off, hoodie dropped onto the floor while Eva, braids starting to come loose, sat on the bed, shuffling over to claim the wall side and burrowing below the plain wool blankets Jasper had bought out of residual psychological want, rather than any actual need, looking curiously human and alive as she did so. 

The effect was shattered when she looked up at him, hovering by the side of the bed, and quoted in her deliberate, calm affect from the poem engraved on the ring she’d gifted to him “fold thyself, my dearest, thou, and slip, into my bosom and be lost in me”. Tilting her head, she added “I can hear you thinking, Jasper, please - come to bed.”

Jasper paused momentarily, before joining her, sliding under blankets, lying on his back, awkwardly stiff and habitually careful not to touch her. Eva moved in response, pillowing her head on his chest, twining her fingers with his, slinging one leg over his. He allowed his body to relax, accepting her touch, her absolute trust. There’s no breath to slow into an easy sleep, no comforting warmth, but nevertheless, the mere action is curiously restful - trust and peace, comfort and respite. He’d not allowed himself much of any, and knew she hadn’t either. 

In the incipient promise of a new dawn, Jasper and Eva slipped soundlessly once more into the sleep of the dead.


End file.
